


Remember

by regenderate



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regenderate/pseuds/regenderate
Summary: “How do you still trust me?” Willow asked.Tara paused, trying to figure out how to answer that.“I don’t,” she finally said.--Willow tells Tara about the spell she's thinking of working. Alternate ending to s6e6 All the Way. Buffyverse Femslash Week 2018 Day 2: Canon-Divergent





	Remember

“Tara, I’m scared.”

Tara rolled over and looked at Willow, who had just sat down next to her on the bed, and who was now holding a flower and shaking.

“Scared?” she asked, cautious.

“The magic,” Willow said. “I’ve been being really mean to you about it, but I think-- I think you’re right that I need to stop. I keep getting-- I keep getting these urges, and I’m afraid I’m going to do something really controlling and terrible.”

Tara put a hand on Willow’s arm.

“I know I’ve been fighting with you about this,” she said, “and that’s because it’s important. But I also know you’re strong enough to fight this.”

“How?” Willow asked.

“I don’t know,” Tara admitted. “That’s up to you. Were you going to do something with that flower?”

Willow shook her head.

“If I tell you, you’ll hate me,” she said.

“I could never hate you,” Tara answered.

Willow started really crying now, tears falling from her face onto the flower, and she shook her head.

“You could,” she said.

Tara reached for Willow, murmuring reassurances, kissing her hair.

“I just want to help,” she said. “I promise. Even when we fight, okay?”

Willow nodded a tiny, weak nod.

“I know,” she said. “I just-- this one’s really bad.”

“It’s okay,” Tara said. “You didn’t do it, and you’re not going to.”

“I know,” Willow agreed. “But-- I was going to make you forget our argument. I was halfway to doing it before I made myself stop. And I just want to control everyone. Why do I want to control everyone?”

Tara stopped for a moment, releasing her hold on Willow a little as ice crept through her chest. This one _was_ really bad. She imagined for a moment that Willow actually _had_ done it, and how completely lost that would have made her feel.

And then she stopped imagining, because Willow _hadn’t_ done it, and she knew there was a problem, and Tara could help. She was good at helping people work with their problems.

“Probably there’s just a lot going on in your life that’s out of your control,” Tara said. “But you have to deal with that in a healthier way, okay?”

“I know,” Willow said. “I just don’t know how.”

“You might have to stop doing magic,” Tara said.

“I can’t,” Willow said. “I’m so afraid.”

“Of what?”

“You haven’t seen me without magic,” Willow said. “You don’t understand. I was _nobody_ before. I was a _nerd_.”

“You were always somebody,” Tara told her. “And you’re kind of still a nerd, you know.”

Willow giggled a little, and Tara smiled.

“But really,” Willow said. “I was just-- such a nobody, and I feel like I’m still the person I was when I was fifteen, and the magic is all that’s keeping you from seeing it.”

“That’s not true,” Tara said. “The magic doesn’t have to be a part of you, okay? And you helped save the world when you were fifteen.”

“Yeah, but I was so, so scared,” Willow said.

“Of course you were,” Tara told her. “It’s scary. Saving the world is terrifying. That’s natural. The point is, you did it.”

Willow nodded.

“So if the magic goes away,” Tara continued, “you’re still someone who can save the world, and who’s good with computers, and who’s really smart, and who cares about her friends, and who I love very much, okay?”

Willow nodded again.

“It’s been a long day,” Tara added. “We should get some rest.”

“Okay,” Willow said. “And-- I’m sorry I was so mean to you earlier. In the Bronze. I can’t believe I said those things.”

“I’m not going to say it’s okay,” Tara said, “because it really did hurt, but I know you’re trying, and we’re going to get you some help, okay?”

“Okay,” Willow said.

Tara leaned over and turned out the light. She fell asleep holding a still-shaking Willow and wondering if the situation really could be fixed.

* * *

 

The next morning, they woke up and systematically combed the house for magic. Buffy and Dawn helped once Tara explained what was going on, and by that afternoon, the house was completely rid of herbs, spellbooks, crystals, and potions. Willow sat miserably in their emptier room, and Tara sat down next to her.

“I’m proud of you,” she said. “I want you to know that.”

“I know,” Willow said. “But what if I can’t do it?”

“You can do it,” Tara said. “I’ll help you.”

Willow nodded.

“Do you want to cook dinner with me?” Tara asked. “Cooking is a good distraction.”

“Yeah, okay,” Willow said.

Tara took Willow’s hand, and they walked down the stairs together.

* * *

 

The day after that, everyone was singing. Tara and Willow did a duet about the whole magic thing immediately after waking up, and Tara could hear a whole orchestra behind it, somehow, and her usually washed-out pajamas were bright colors that vaguely matched Willow’s, and the whole thing was just weird.

After it stopped, Willow said, “I wonder what that was.”

“Me too,” Tara said.

“Oh!” Willow exclaimed. “I could do a-- a spell to find out if-- no. No spells.”

“No spells,” Tara agreed. “But we can do other things. Let’s go to the magic shop. I’m sure everyone else will be there.”

They got dressed (in outfits Tara didn’t even know they owned; was that part of the magic?) and ate breakfast and walked to the Magic Box. There was singing there, too, and Tara couldn’t shake the feeling that everything that was happening was predestined, somehow, like nothing they were doing was actually their choice. It all had to fit into a few quirky bars and some contrived dialogue between, and every spoken word felt like it was leading into a new song.

“I don’t like this,” Willow whispered to her.

“Me, either,” Tara agreed. “Do you want to go?”

“We have to help,” Willow said.

They both turned their attention back to the books on the table.

A few hours and two group numbers later, everyone agreed there wasn’t much more research to do, and they were at a dead end. Buffy and Giles stayed back to train, and Willow and Tara walked home the long way through the park, passing a number of ensembles along the way.

“I really don’t like this,” Willow repeated. “I don’t even like singing. I only have to sing in my _nightmares_.”

“I love to sing,” Tara said, “but I don’t like it when someone else puts words in my mouth.”

“Oh, God,” Willow said. “This is what I was going to do to you, Tara.”

Tara squeezed Willow’s hand.

“I know,” she said. “It scares me, a little bit. But you didn’t, and you won’t.”

“How do you still trust me?” Willow asked.

Tara paused, trying to figure out how to answer that.

“I don’t,” she finally said. “I mean, I do, but my trust is broken a little. But the fact that you told me and you didn’t do it means a lot, and I think we can rebuild the trust, and I still love you.”

“I love you, too,” Willow said. “Ugh. I still feel like someone’s watching us.”

“They’re not invited to our heart-to-heart,” Tara agreed.

* * *

 

They had a lot to work through after that. They defeated the singing demon and had to come to terms with reviving an unwilling and miserable Buffy, and they had to rebuild trust, and Willow had to fight every day to keep from using her magic. It was difficult, but not impossible.

* * *

 

Weeks later, Willow and Tara were at Buffy’s dining room table, researching a brand new problem. Willow looked up over the top of her computer and said, “I’m glad I’m not using magic anymore.”

“Me, too,” Tara agreed.


End file.
